


Chocolatey Goodness 02: Peanut Butter And...

by Mad Poetess (mpoetess)



Series: Chocolatey Goodness [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angst, Food Sex, Humor, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-02
Updated: 2000-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-05 21:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mpoetess/pseuds/Mad%20Poetess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peanut butter and Anya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chocolatey Goodness 02: Peanut Butter And...

 

Xander shrugged out of his FoodMart stockboy shirt and hung it in his locker. A reasonably uneventful morning of unpacking boxes, freezing his ass off re-filling the dairy case, and cleaning up a disastrous baby-food spill on Aisle Nine had left him still able to walk and chew gum. Which was more than he could say for last night's thrill-a-minute late shift at Chuck-E-Cheese, not to mention the psychotic interlude that had followed when he got home. The routine of the morning had given him all too much time to think about how little sleep he'd gotten the previous night, and why. A half-hour stint of re-arranging the cereal aisle hadn't helped matters.

At the end of his five-hour shift, as he pushed his cart down the aisles looking for provisions that would fit in his little refrigerator or his three tiny cupboards, his thoughts weren't any clearer. He pulled items off the shelf almost on auto-pilot. _So what the hell did Spike mean by... that, and what the hell did I mean by not kicking his undead ass?_

It wasn't like he'd been cheating on anybody, since Anya had unceremoniously informed him on Monday afternoon that "they" were over, but she'd like to stay friends. He still couldn't quite wrap his mind around that concept. _Friends? Anya? Anya who only puts up with *mine* because I told her over and over that there are other relationships in the world than the orgasmic? And when did *I* come to that mature conclusion, anyway? Couldn't have proved it by me in high school..._ But Spike? Undead guy? *Male* undead guy?

He rounded the corner of Aisle Two (bread and condiments) and banged his shopping cart smack into the cart of the last person he expected to see. (Well, technically, Spike would have been the last person, since it was one in the afternoon and the sun was high in the sky, so maybe the second-to-last person.) Anya herself. Her cart was well-stocked with yummy junk-food, Xander noted approvingly in the middle of his panic. _I have taught the young Jedi well._ She looked up at him.

"Are you stalking me, Xander? Because while it's strangely flattering, the next step as I understand it would be either you leaving dead tropical fish in an envelope on my bed, or us ending up on the Jerry Springer Show. Can we skip those steps?" She said it with a perfectly straight face, and God knew, she was probably serious. Humor was one of those things that Anya was rediscoving...slowly.

"Yes, Anya, I came to work today with the express purpose of stalking you. I exist only to terrorize you with discount grocery products. If you don't come back to me, I swear I'll suffocate myself in the plastic-bag recycling bin." He reached down to disentangle the left front wheel of his cart from the right front wheel of hers. _Yes, Anya, I can't live without you. That's why I let a blood-sucking demon kiss me last night._ Yeah, that would go over well.

Anya was silent for a minute. Finally, "That was a joke, right?"

Xander stood back up. Anya had her face screwed up in a quizzical expression, and she wore an old t-shirt and faded jeans -- but she still looked like hot sex on toast. _Well, at least I'm still functioning in a manly manner, even if it's my ex-girlfriend I happen to be ogling._

"Yes, that was a joke."

"I knew it! And you told me I wouldn't recognize humor if it came up and bit me on the ass." She smiled proudly.

"Woo-hoo, go you. No ass-biting required. No, I'm not stalking you, An. And the tropical fish gag is supposed to be pulled on your best friend, not you. Which would be... Never mind." Xander followed *that* thought to its logical conclusion -- her best friend had been him, hadn't it? And now who did she have? Then he followed his _comment_ to its logical conclusion, and realized that it didn't come out the way he meant, as a hurt expression materialized on Anya's face.

"I guess I deserved that," she answered slowly. "At the moment I guess I *am* my own best friend. But I really wasn't trying to be when I broke up with you. Look, Xander, I was hoping we could also skip the step where you hate me and say bitter, funny things to me every time we meet. Can we?"

"That could be dangerous. Remember when Willow tried to skip a few steps in the breakup process?" he teased. "I'm sorry, Anya. That wasn't meant to be a Chandler Bing moment. If I learned anything from Cordy it's that nursing grudges sucks, even with zingy one-liners. I don't hate you. I don't understand, but I don't hate you." He pulled his cart back and maneuvered it around Anya's, so their carts stood side by side, completely blocking the bread aisle. _God help us if there's a run on tasty baked goods._

"Oh, good. See, that's why I love you. You're so sensible." She smiled, apparently completely relieved, then added, "And the mind-blowing sex was also a factor."

The middle-aged woman a few feet down the aisle from Anya looked over at them, scanned Xander head-to-toe, and muttered, "Whatever you say, little girl," before turning back to the Wonder Bread display.

"Hey, if she says it was mind-blowing, it was mind-blowing... " Xander answered hotly, and then more slowly, " Mrs. Thompson..." and then began repeatedly banging his head against the edge of a shelf. _Yes, Xander, that's it. Debate your ex-sex-life with your mother's bridge partner. That'll make a lovely topic of conversation at the Fourth of July barbecue._ Only when he heard his neighbor's cart squeak off down the aisle did he look back up at Anya.

"OK, so if I'm Mr. Sensible Mind-Blowing Sex Guy, why is it you dumped me, again?" he said in what he hoped was a sensible, not-pathetic voice.

"Because you're not in love with me. And you won't ever be," she said matter-of-factly, as if she were explaining politely why choosy moms choose Jif.

"Yeah, I heard that part. But the machine must have cut you off before you got around to what the hell you meant by that. " _And thank God Spike showed up on Tuesday, and wasn't around to take *that* message... I'd never live it down._

She grimaced. "Yes...sorry. That was cowardly. Manlike, even."

"I do love you, Anya. I thought you knew that." _I question some of your socialization skills, but I'm pretty sure I do love you._ "And yeah, there's the mind-blowing sex. Which is nice. But it isn't everything." He yanked two loaves of whole wheat bread off the shelf, thought better of it, and decided on that childhood comforter, Wonder bread. Which was on the other side of Anya.

"Yes, you do. And no, it isn't. You love me the same way you love Buffy, and not quite as much as you love Willow. I really am just your friend. An orgasm friend, sure. But do you see us getting married, Xander? Do you see us together in five years? Are you even sure you want to spend next Christmas with me? You're not in love with me, and right now that's enough for you, to be friends who have sex, or think about having sex, or discuss having sex loudly in public places. "

"Hey, that last one's your specialty." _Or did she mean that we were supposed to have sex loudly in a public place? I do remember discussing that, and I distinctly recall veto-ing the idea..._

"Shut up and let me finish, please. I may not be explaining this very well. I haven't had a lot of practice with amicable breakups. Most of the communications I was involved in tended to involve boils or exploding sexual organs. But you need to understand. It's not enough for me. I could pretend that it was, and probably make you believe it. But sooner or later it wouldn't be enough for you either. And you'd hurt me. You wouldn't mean to, but you would. And I'd hate you, and there'd be frogs and leprosy and plagues of locusts. Or there would be if I had my powers back. I don't want that, because, believe it or not, Xander Harris, completely separate from craving your luscious manly body..."

There was a snort from the next aisle over that made Xander suspect that Mrs. Thompson hadn't traveled very far.

"...and the whole being in love with you thing, which I think I can maybe get over, if we end this now..."

_Pause for breath, Anya, or you'll turn blue,_ Xander thought.

"...I like you. And I don't want to not like you anymore. I'm new to this friend thing, and I only have a few. You were my first, and I don't want to lose you."

_OK, brain not functioning properly. Maybe I'm having a stroke? That might explain last night. It was a figment of lack of blood supply to the brain. Anya broke up with me because she *likes* me? And this is actually making sense to me?_

"That's...pretty sensible, from the girl who thought we were breaking up because we didn't have sex for two nights in a row," he finally replied. He pushed his cart forward, until he was standing next to her, and put his arms around her. It felt...familiar, and strange, at the same time. Anya as friend? It would take some getting used to.

"Yeah, well..." she answered. "You got a call from Cordelia while you were in the shower last week. She's pretty smart, for somebody who willingly chose not to have sex with you. We talked. She taught. I learned."

"In one phone call?"

"It was a long shower."

"And the message was?"

Anya frowned. "Something about demons overrunning the Earth if you didn't call her back by Wednesday, I think. Nothing important."

"Anya???? Demons??? Wednesday??? It's Saturday!"

She grinned, and dug her elbow into his side, which was conveniently close, since he still had her wrapped in a loose hug.

"Gotcha! Woo-hoo. Go me! No ass-biting required." Humor. From Anya. Oh yeah, definite stroke evidence. Xander smiled.

"Harris! I'm all for customer service, but we don't offer that kind of service in FoodMart, last time I checked." The weekend manager, Jack Dunphy, stood at the end of the aisle, a scowl on his face.

Xander disengaged locking mechanisms and pulled away from Anya. "So, ma'am, you were looking for Aunt Millie's Potato Bread? We're out of it, but we do have the Oatmeal Bread on the second shelf there."

Dunphy gave him a "who do you think you're fooling?" look, but moved on past. _Hey-- I'm off the clock. If I want to cuddle with my ex-girlfriend in Aisle Two, what business is it of yours? Well, aside from the obvious thing about apparent foreplay in a public place..._

"Actually, I was looking for those Jif Smooth Sensations flavored peanut butters. And Cordelia said hi, and asked for Tara's number, since Willow wasn't home. " Anya informed him, suddenly purposeful. She reached across to the condiment side of the aisle, and pulled down a jar of brown peanut butter, eyeing it thoughtfully.

"Umm, Anya, that might be a little out of date. Not that we'd ever ...er...*forget* to take stock off the shelves in time around here.." Xander commented, looking at the jar.

"Nope. It's supposed to be this color. It's chocolate." She dropped the plastic jar into her cart.

"Chocolate? They make chocolate peanut butter, and no one told me?" Xander swooped three of the little jars into his cart. The two great forces of the universe, united in one creamy potion....A Bad Xander Thought (tm) ran through his head: _What can you do with spreadable chocolate? Yeah, I'm definitely having a stroke. I can't feel my brain._

Anya looked down at his cart, and the most puzzled look he'd ever seen crossed her face. What? He hadn't exactly been paying attention to what he'd been pulling off the shelves, but surely it wasn't full of tampons and Midol or something? He was reasonably sure he hadn't been down *that* aisle...

"Xander," she finally asked, "Why do you have six boxes of Count Chocula in your cart?"


End file.
